


Supernova

by Draikinator



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're going to see the stars again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernova

There is a star, officially called _Beta Canum Venaticoru_ , located in the _Canes Venatici_ constellation, the hunting dogs. It’s also the fourth star in a Chinese penned constellation, the Imperial Guards, but you like dogs, so let’s stick with _Beta Canum Venaticoru_ and _Canes Venatici_ for now.

* * *

 

You pluck one of the flowers gently from the earth, snapping the stem at its base. You weave it into the others, humming, and ignore the way the creases between your fingers are already starting to burn ever so lightly.

“Whatcha doin’?” You don’t look up when he asks, because you heard him tromping through the muddy garden long before he came to a stop behind you, so you just gesture for him to sit down and he does, sniffing the thing you’ve made from Dad’s prizes buttercups curiously with his big goat nose. You plop it on top of his head, seated over the budding nubs on his temples. He snorts and readjusts the little crown with a laugh.

“How do I look?” He says, and you flash him a thumbs up. He folds his legs under him, even though his trousers are getting dirty, and plucks a flower to start weaving you your own crown.

* * *

 

This star, _Beta Canum Venaticoru_ , is an estimated 27.53 light years from the Earth. That means that when you look up at the night sky and find the brightest star in the Hunting Dogs constellation, you’re actually seeing what that star looked like 27.53 years. And while there are usually signs before a star dies, the unexpected must always be accounted for, and there’s no guarantee that that star is even still alive. For all we know, 27.52 years ago that star blew up and burnt out, and if we were closer, we’d know that. But we aren’t, so we don’t.

* * *

 

Dad’s here, and Asriel’s not, which means he’s picking more flowers. He’s a good partner. You didn’t even have to tell him this time. Dad keeps rubbing your palm and whispering incoherently that you’re going to be okay- you’re not, though.

You realize with a start that you can’t actually feel the grit of his pawpad against your skin. You stare at it, cold and tired and soaked with sweat. This isn’t what you expected dying to be like. You thought it would be less pathetic, maybe. You’ve kind of made a habit of being wrong, though, so, whatever.

* * *

 

That’s kind of the nature of stars, though. They die, and it takes years for anyone to notice or care. They fizzle and fade in the cold blackness of space, once a brilliant beacon, and then- gone. Forever. Unmourned.

* * *

 

 _B D B D B E B E_ , the little statue chimes in lilting little notes that shake and twitch. You know the tune, you wrote it. A lazy little half remembered ditty you hummed through instinct or something, a personal theme song he loved. It didn’t belong here inside this wet, sad stone thing, a reminder of death and decay and being forgotten. Even with the umbrella it looks like it’s crying, raindrops from the leaking ceiling still moist on its marble cheeks.

You try not to think to hard about how lonely it must be down here, rained on and unwanted, a single statue in a tired hall. Alone. Just him. It. The real child. The only one anyone ever missed. Probably fair.

You shoulder your umbrella and keep walking. The melody follows you until it doesn’t.

* * *

 

Anyway. We’re getting off topic. _Beta Canum Venaticoru_ , also known as one of the stars in The Imperial Soldiers, also known as the Southern Dog, also known as _Chara_ , is your favourite star. You’d always liked that star. It’s a bit fitting, now, you think, because that star could just as well have died before you were even born and you not even known it was too late to care about it- you figure, though, you probably died somewhere around the day you were born, and it was always too late to care about you. There was really never anything that could have been done.

* * *

 

There’s sunlight on their skin and smiles on their faces. The world is far less ugly than you remember it being, orange-red and nostalgic. Mom holds Frisk’s hand and they head down the sloping hill of the footpath down the mountain together, but something keeps you rooted at the exit. The sun’s going down. The monsters below you are packing and cheering. It’s done. It’s over. You got what you wanted.

You guess you’re happy.

* * *

Oh well. It was a nice star. One of many.


End file.
